


Henry Delarue Imagines: SFW

by robinwritesallthethings



Series: Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters [7]
Category: The Salvation (2014)
Genre: BDSM, Cowboys, F/M, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sexual Harassment, Western
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24936481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Relationships: Henry Delarue/Reader
Series: Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933015
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Imagine Henry Delarue being jealous of another man interacting with you.

You smile as you hear spurs with an unhurried gait enter the store. You don’t even have to look to know it’s Henry Delarue. 

He approaches and leans casually against the counter, so handsome in his maroon duster. “How are you, princess?” he wonders. 

“I’m well, Mr. Delarue,” you answer. “Thank you for asking.” 

He chuckles. “You don’t have to be formal around me, princess. Call me Henry. Where’s your father today?” 

You frown. “His leg is bothering him. I made him stay in bed and rest.” 

“Does he need a doctor, princess?” 

“We can’t afford one,” you admit quietly.

The store supports you both, but just barely. 

Before Henry can reply, two local men join you. 

“Well, well, honey, aren’t you looking mighty fine today!” one of them hollers. “Why don’t you let me take you out back and show you how to ride?” 

You bite your lip nervously and Henry’s long fingers curl over his gun. “I’ll handle this, princess.” 

He steps to the side so he’s no longer hidden by the shelves and the men go pale. Henry raises one eyebrow and sucks his teeth menacingly. “You boys need to learn how to treat a lady,” he growls. “Do I have to teach you?” 

“No, sir, Mr. Delarue,” they stammer. “We’re sorry, ma’am.” 

They practically trip over themselves as they rush out. 

“Thank you, Henry,” you say softly. 

He tips his hat at you. “You’re welcome, princess.” He pauses for a moment. His silence is grave, like what just happened is driving him to make an important decision. Finally, he comes slowly around the counter and clasps your chin in his fingers. “Why don’t I stay until you close up and then escort you home? We’ll get the doctor on the way.” 

“I can’t take favors, Henry,” you refuse him gently. 

“Won’t be a favor,” he grunts. “If you accept my proposal, it will be my obligation as family.” 

“Proposal?” you respond dumbly. 

Henry nods. “I know those two fellas who were just in here don't count for nothin', but one day someone worthy of you will walk through that door, and I'm already mighty jealous of whoever he is. You’re a sweet woman, princess. You deserve to be cared for. You deserve a real man. I’d like it to be me, even though I'm honestly not sure that I'm good enough for you. But I won’t ask your father for your hand unless you say yes first. I don't want to force you into anything.” 

He’s barely done speaking before you throw yourself into his arms. “Yes, Henry! Oh, yes, I want to marry you!” 

“Didn’t think you’d be that excited, princess,” he rumbles. “I’m flattered.” 

As you snuggle happily against him, he leans down and kisses your hairline. “Don’t you worry, princess,” he soothes you. “You’re mine now. Everything is going to be all right.”


	2. Imagine Henry Delarue figuring out that you’re turned on by the sound of his spurs.

You hear Henry walk into the store before you see him. The sound of his spurs is unmistakable. They never fail to send a shiver up your spine, though you’ve done your best to make sure he doesn’t know that. 

You take a deep breath and try not to blush as he slowly sidles his way up to the counter. He has an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and that makes you nervous. 

“How are you today, sweetheart?” he drawls. 

You smile at him. Most of the townsfolk would call him a gruff man, but he’s always been kind to you. 

“I’m well enough, Henry. Thank you for inquiring. How are you?” 

He grins and starts to pace up and down the counter in front of you, his spurs clinking against the floor. You blink, watching him carefully. Henry is a man who never moves without purpose; usually he’s almost eerily still. 

“And now?” he adds, raising his eyebrows. 

The blush you’ve been trying to suppress spreads over your cheeks and down your neck. He knows. 

He chuckles, reaching out and grabbing your chin in his fingers. “Aw, come on, sweetheart. Give me a little kiss and I’ll make some more noise for ya.” 

You don’t hesitate. You lean forward and press your lips against his tentatively, sighing into the kiss. His mustache tickles your face. 

“Never heard of a woman taking a liking to the sound of men’s spurs before,” he admits casually. 

“Not men’s,” you sigh. “Just yours, Henry. Just yours.” 

“Is that so?” He’s obviously pleased, and your heart skips a beat. “Why don’t you join me for dinner tonight, sweetheart? After, we’ll see what noises I can get you to make that I might take a liking to.” 

He winks and tips his hat as you try to catch your breath. “I’ll be back for you at closing time, sweetheart.” 

You nod and he grins again, walking slowly out of the store, letting you get in one last listen. You cannot wait until tonight.


	3. Imagine Henry Delarue taking you as collateral until a debt is paid.

Henry sits quietly in his chair, his feet up on his desk, his hands folded in his lap. If you didn’t know better, you would think he’s asleep. 

“Surprised you haven’t tried to run,” he finally observes quietly. 

“I don’t fancy getting shot,” you answer, shrugging. 

When he doesn’t reply, you bite your lip. “You know my father can’t pay you?” you ask softly. “And even if he could, he wouldn’t. He just wants to get rid of me.” 

“I didn’t miss his lack of concern at my taking you,” Henry confirms. “Women are valuable enough, though. Especially women like you,” he adds ominously. “Making my money back won’t be a problem.” 

A shiver runs up your spine. “Please don’t sell me,” you find yourself begging. “Please.” 

Henry stands and walks over to you slowly, his spurs clinking against the wooden floor. He looks unabashedly down your cleavage before he unties you. 

“Show me why I should keep you, darlin’,” he drawls, stepping back to lean casually against his desk. 

You flush, but you kneel and start to carefully undo his trousers. Henry watches you impassively. You get his pants open, but he stops you before you can go any further. 

“You’re very obliging, sweetheart.” 

You bite your lip. “You don’t want me?” you wonder.

It’s hard to accept that you’ve disappointed him before you’ve even tried. 

“You’re too good of a woman for this, darlin’,” he admits, grabbing your shoulders and gently lifting you back to your feet. 

“I’m confused,” you whisper. 

He smiles. “I’m ready to settle down, sweetheart,” he confesses. “I figured your father would demand money for you, considering that you’re a pretty little virgin. So I took you as collateral for the debt instead. The amount he owes is insignificant compared to what he would have asked for.” 

You blink. “You want to marry me?” 

“I got the impression that that’s what you want too. Am I wrong?” 

You shake your head quickly. “You’re not wrong.” 

“So come on, darlin’,” he requests, holding his arm out for you. “Let’s get hitched.” 

As you curl your fingers around his elbow, he winks. 

“Then you can get back on your knees.”


	4. Imagine being forced into an arranged marriage with Henry Delarue.

It's your wedding day. Not that you're looking forward to it. 

Your father, eager to make his fortune, sold you to the richest man he could find. Henry Delarue, a former colonel now working for a corrupt land company, if you can believe the rumors floating around town. 

But you could care less about that. What you care about is the fact that he's a man who expects others to bend to his will, no matter the circumstances. Particularly women. Your every action is going to be according to his whim. 

Some women would like that, especially after the hardship of growing up on the frontier. But you didn't fight to survive to become someone else's dog, no matter who they are. 

If you run, though, you'll be followed and killed. Or worse, depending on who finds you. So you're just going to have to find some other solution. 

You behave during the ceremony, but it's clear that you're not happy. 

Your new husband doesn't say anything about your mood until you're alone together. “You're a willful woman,” he observes calmly, slowly taking off his belt.

He slides his gun holster free and sets it down in plain view, as if he's daring you to try and use it. Then he snaps the belt tight between his hands and smirks. “I can take care of that,” he promises. “You'll be nice and pliable when I'm done with you.” 

You narrow your eyes. If he thinks that scares you, he's going to learn fast. “Is that so?” you wonder slyly. 

Henry nods. “You're the best kind of woman to break, princess. It's no fun if it's easy.” 

You lick your lips. “Oh, it won't be easy,” you agree. “You can try, but you won't succeed.” 

“I wouldn't be so sure of that, princess.” He steps closer, looping the belt around his fist and tipping your chin up with his fingers. “I'm a very patient, very creative man.” 

“Are you?”

Your stomach tenses as your curiosity rises. You had expected him to want you to obey, but you had also expected him to lose his temper if you didn't. This reaction is far more interesting than you could have hoped for. 

“I am,” he confirms. “Now kiss me.” 

“No,” you whisper.

It's a test. Maybe this little dance is just for show. The belt unfurls and hits the floor. “It's time for your first lesson, then. Bend over, or I'll make you.” 

You don't move. Henry puts his hand on the back of your neck. 

So he wants a challenge? You can appreciate that. Maybe this marriage won't be so bad after all.


End file.
